Endless Road to Rediscover
by O'MalleytheAlleyCat
Summary: AU. Dean stared at the note his father had left, wondering about who this kid Sam Wesson was, why he was supposed to adopt him and how this all fit into taking down the demon that killed his mother. Eight year age difference. Re-write of the series, starts with episode 1.
1. Woman in White 1

A/N: This is a re-write of the series where Dean and Sam grow up apart, they are eight years, instead of four years, apart. This is the first installation of the story, I plan on (if the story does well enough) to continue this re-write of the series.

 **Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 1: The Woman in White

* * *

Chapter 1: Don't Disrespect Baby

* * *

Dean shook his head, water coming off and falling down to the already wet ground. He glanced about before placing the key in the motel door. It was dark and he was soaked from the rain that had been pouring down for the last week. His dad had sent him off on a hunt in nowhere Minnesota hunting a werewolf. They were supposed to meet up here to discuss the next hunts.

The door swung open and Dean's eyes narrowed as he took in the clean and terribly empty room. He stepped swiftly inside, his training focusing in on all of the details of the room. His dad was supposed to be here and if John wasn't, the only reasons that could be was if something Supernatural was involved.

"Dad?" Dean called out, dropping his duffel silently to the floor and pulling his Beretta from where it was tucked in his waistband.

He swept the room, noting that other than the lack of his dad's duffel and personal effects that everything was in place, even the carefully placed salt lines hadn't been disturbed. Dean hesitated, the Beretta falling to point at the ground as he took in a note on the motel desk and the bible his father had pulled a blank page from to write the note.

Dean's eyes narrowed in concern and he grabbed the note. On it was an address and the name 'Sam Wesson'. Underlined multiple times were the words 'Solution, YED'.

* * *

Sam Wesson stood in front of the desk of the matron of the orphanage.

"They didn't want you Sam."

Sam gave a small nod, "But Ms. Lloyd, they said they wanted to meet with me again."

Ms. Lloyd waved her hand. "I told you Sam, they changed their mind. They probably just realized they wanted someone better."

Sam's face fell and he gave another nod.

"Don't bother me about this again Sam, you're fourteen, the likelihood of you being adopted isn't high and it's made worse by the fact that you're a worthless waste of space, no one is going to want you."

"Sorry Ms. Lloyd."

The woman was already sorting through papers, her attention barely on Sam. She glanced up at Sam, a bored and annoyed look on her face. She smiled then, a grimace on her face.

"You can leave now, Sam."

Sam stepped out of the office and into the hallway. The Meadows Orphanage was small, a rather dingy place that was often overlooked. It only ever had up to thirty kids and that was a rare occurrence. Sam had been there his entire fourteen years. It didn't look very happy on the outside and it was absolutely miserable on the inside.

Sam walked slowly down the hallway, headed for his shared room. The low rumble of an engine had Sam stop and turn to look out a window. An old black car was pulling up the driveway. Sam watched a young man step out of the car and look up at the orphanage. His eyes landed on the window Sam was staring through and there was a strange moment where both were watching each other, knowing the other was watching them. Sam ducked away from the window, heading towards his room.

* * *

After calling his dad on every phone he knew his father owned and leaving about fifty messages, Dean had collapsed onto the bed, overwhelmed. He stared between his Beretta that was still in his hand and the bible which he'd thrown on the bed.

It had been him and his dad for the last fifteen and a half years, ever since his mother had burned in a house fire and his little brother had died from the smoke which had been too much for the six month old lungs. Just him and his dad. Hunting had been cruel and merciless, and Dean was deep in the life.

Now his dad was gone, Dean would feel hurt over the personal abandonment but John hadn't exactly been a loving, caring father. Affection wasn't a reason to be upset. John ditching his ass without a word was a good reason to be angry though, it wasn't a good way to hunt and it wasn't what John had taught him. Dean let out a huff and stared at the short, cryptic note that his dad had left.

With a heavy sigh he set the note to the side and grabbed the bible, opening it. He frowned when he saw an envelope addressed to him slide out.

* * *

Sam had gone to his room and sat on the top bunk. It was a small room, crowded by two bunk beds and a dresser. He had just settled on the bed when the doorbell rang. Jumping from his bed he headed downstairs where a few kids were in the front room watching tv. They hadn't responded in any way to the door bell ringing. Sam frowned but headed to the door and opened it.

A tall young man stood at the door, dressed in flannel, a leather jacket, old ripped jeans and boots.

"Hey kid, can I talk with the person who runs this place."

Sam nodded. People often came to visit Ms. Lloyd, especially ones who had no interest in the adoption process.

"Yeah, I'll go get her."

The guy smiled briefly and Sam turned, heading up the stairs. He knocked quietly on Ms. Lloyd's door and then entered.

"There's someone here to see you."

Ms. Lloyd smiled and nodded. "Send them up here, please."

Sam nodded and scattered from the room. Ms. Lloyd had been running the orphanage for as long as Sam could remember. Apparently she'd shown up a few months after Sam had been placed there. She hated children, but she seemed to hate Sam most of all, turning any possible adopters away, punishing him more than the other children.

The young man was still standing outside.

"She's up in her office, I'll show you."

Piercing green eyes surveyed Sam for a moment, making him feel like crawling under a rock.

"Thanks kid."

Sam nodded and the man followed him through the house and back up the stairs. Sam heard him mumble under his breath.

"What a friggin' dump."

Sam felt embarrassment flush through his cheeks. He knew the place wasn't in good condition but he and the other kids tried their hardest to keep it clean, they wanted to be adopted. They arrived at the door and Sam stepped back to let the cold, hard stranger through. Curiosity had him hesitate though, pausing at the door to listen.

"Ms. Lloyd?" The young guy's voice was deep.

"Yes, and you are?" Ms. Lloyd responded, tone rude.

"Mr. Wesson. I'm here about a relative of mine."

Sam paled in shock, eyes widening. They had told him he didn't have anyone, that he didn't have a family. They had died when he was a baby, leaving him behind. Ms. Lloyd seemed to have the same reaction as Sam because there was silence behind the thin wood door.

"Who?" Ms. Lloyd managed to splutter out.

"Sam Wesson, he's my brother."

Sam felt his heart, which had already been beating wildly, pound harder. He had a brother, a big brother. Happiness and hope he hadn't experienced in years filled him. He had a brother and his brother had come to get him.

"You have papers, Mr. Wesson?" Ms. Lloyd's voice was dripping with condescension.

"Of course, ma'am." Mr. Wesson's voice was level.

* * *

Dean had opened the envelope, inscribed with his name by his father's hand, and had found adoption papers along with an identity giving him the name Dean Wesson. There were more papers, all things to collaborate his identity and his relation with the name Sam Wesson. Dean had frowned, confused. He'd expected a hunter, someone with experience.

Flipping through the papers he discovered that Sam Wesson was a fourteen year old boy. There wasn't a picture, in fact there wasn't much. The last paper was a short letter from his father. 'Keep him with you, teach him'.

Dean clenched his jaw, fighting the anger and confusion at his father, a man who had just left him alone and then given him the strangest request he'd ever had. Crumpling the paper in his hand Dean stood up and threw it on the floor with an angry growl.

* * *

"You'll find everything's in order, so if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get my brother and get out of this shithole."

Sam heard Ms. Lloyd clear her throat in that annoying and extremely condescending way that she used when she was angry.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple."

"I'm afraid it is. I did the research. Everything's there, you got an hour to check and then I'm leaving with my brother. If you have a problem with it, I'm sure we'll see you in court a month from now, if your allegations even make it to court."

Ms. Lloyd coughed again, this time more strained.

"Well, I will definitely check to make sure these are in proper order. Until then, I suppose you'll have to wait. Outside, if you will."

Sam scrambled away from where he was leaned in next to the door. A second later the man burst out, shutting the door behind him. He spared Sam a glance and for the first time seemed to actually see him.

"Got a problem kid?"

Sam shook his head quickly, but then looked closer, wondering about his brother. The guy looked younger now that Sam was taking in the smooth skin and baby faced youth still lingering in the strong jawline. He looked older though when you didn't focus on that, eyes hard and steeled, body tensed and hyper aware, so unlike someone his age who was usually carefree. The guy had an intimidating and aged presence.

"I asked if you had a problem, otherwise scram."

Sam jumped and ran to his room. Huddling on his bed, he listened as closely as he could. No footsteps sounded and he knew that the guy was standing there, waiting. An hour passed and Sam was starting to doze, the afternoon waning as evening approached.

The door opened and Sam's head snapped up from where he was dozing, eyes wide and alert. Ms. Lloyd stepped through, followed by the stranger from earlier, the one who was his brother.

"Sam." Ms. Lloyd snapped.

Sam scrambled from his bunk, nearly tripping and falling down. He stood uncertainly staring up at Ms. Lloyd.

"This is your brother, he's come to take you. Pack your stuff, I imagine Mr. Wesson would like to leave soon."

Sam nodded, glancing at his brother whose face was impassive. Ms. Lloyd let out an affronted sniff and turned to Mr. Wesson.

"An hour and I hope you'll be on your way."

She turned and left, Sam staring after her.

"Hurry and pack." Sam jumped and hurried to start packing his stuff.

He didn't own much, just enough clothing to get by at school, not even quite that much. Once he had his backpack slung on his shoulders, filled with every item he owned, he followed his brother out of the room and down the stairs.

"Woah." Sam said when he got close to the car.

It was in amazing condition and it was probably the coolest thing Sam had ever seen. He stared wide eyed up at the guy. It was the first time he'd seen a hint of a smile on the guy's face.

"She's my baby." The smile fell, "so you make sure you treat her right. Get one scratch or anything, I kill you."

Sam nodded vigorously, suddenly terrified. He gently pulled the door open and slid in as carefully as he could. The guy, his brother, got in next and started the car up. When he didn't speak for nearly twenty minutes, Sam finally scrounged up the courage to speak.

"So, you're my brother?"

"No."

Sam frowned and the bubble of joy and hope that had been building in him burst in an onslaught of confusion and pain.

"I-I don't-" Sam stuttered, looking at the guy. "I don't understand."

"My name is Dean Winchester, my dad-" Dean fell short, becoming silent for a few moments before clearing his throat.

"You believe in monsters. Sam?"

"Monsters?" Sam said, incredulous. He was still trying to process everything that was happening.

"Well, they're real. For whatever reason, you're important to taking down a very bad monster."

"If you're not my brother, how did? How did you get me? That's what you told Ms. Lloyd, that you were my brother."

The temperature in the car seemed to drop as Dean grew extremely quiet and his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel until they were white.

"You are not, nor will ever be anything like a brother to me." It was quiet and full of rage.

Sam felt hurt prick at him, an emotion that grew and overwhelmed the confusion and swirl of everything that had happened in the last hour. Ducking his head down he nodded his head and curled into himself. Ms. Lloyd had been right, no one had or ever would want him. He was worthless.

A moment passed and Dean seemed to ease slightly. "Only thing you need to know kid is that monsters are real and if you want to stay alive you follow my rules."

Sam gave a quick nod. He wasn't entirely sure if Dean wasn't crazy, but anything had to better than Ms. Lloyd.

"First rule, you listen to and obey everything I tell you. You don't and I guarantee you end up dead. Second rule, do not mess with my baby."

"Baby?" Sam asked hesitantly, immediately twisting his head to look in the back seat.

"My baby is the Impala."

"Impala?" Sam asked, now even more confused. He was thinking of the a book he'd read about the ecology of Southern Africa, he highly doubted the formidable guy next to him owned that specie of antelope, let alone an antelope at all.

Dean let out a disgusted huff, "Don't you know anything kid? It's the car. A 1967 chevy Impala, four door, Big block engine 502. Most beautiful thing to grace the road. Do not-" Dean paused, looking at Sam for emphasis.

"I repeat, do not. Disrespect. My. Baby."

Sam flushed red, embarrassed by the intense and loving tone Dean had adopted in referring to a car. He decided, wisely, to keep his opinion to himself. Really, it was just a car.

He couldn't help the next thing that slipped out of his mouth. "Is that a rule?"

Dean glared at him. "Yes, that is a rule."

"Next, third rule-"

"Fourth." Sam interrupted quickly.

Dean's glare sharpened for a moment. "Fourth rule." Dean's gave him a pointed look before turning his head back to the road. "Don't bitch."

Sam gave another quick nod.


	2. Woman in White 2

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 1: The Woman in White

* * *

Chapter 2: Have A Little Faith

* * *

They drove and drove until Sam was sure that he hated cars and roads. They had been driving for at least ten hours, the only reprieve being a couple short gas stops. He didn't say anything though, he hoped that if he followed Dean's rules that maybe Dean would like him a little.

Dean had been on a gas stop, intent to head for Lawrence to get some answers from Missouri, because his dad sure as hell wasn't answering, when a voice message had appeared from his dad. A strange EVP message with the haunting voice of a woman, and the town Jericho, California was then their next destination.

It had taken just a second and Dean was heading them toward California. The kid was quiet, like too quiet for a kid. Not that Dean had much experience, it was nice though, he didn't have to worry about the brat then. He was trying to ignore Sam completely, that way he wouldn't have to confront his issues with his father and also the issue of training. When they stopped for the night it was hitting just before midnight and the kid looked beat. Dean hesitated, taking in the exhaustion on the kids face before the simmering anger at his father blew away any care he felt. Kid needed to start his training.

Dumping his duffel at the foot of the bed closest to the door, Dean next sat the weapons bag on the bed. He'd filtered it so just the basic supernatural weapons were in it. The thin teen stood on the carpet uncertainly and Dean felt another pang of guilt. The kid's whole world had been upended. Not that the orphanage had seemed like that great of a place.

"You're getting your first lesson in the supernatural."

The kid looked confused and Dean held back a frustrated sigh. Sam probably would be like most and not believe in the supernatural until it reared its ugly head right in front of his nose. Dean waved him over and the kid hesitantly approached.

Unzipping the bag, Dean pulled out the first weapon: Salt. Best to start it off easy. Sam looked extremely confused and slightly worried. Kid probably thought he was crazy.

"This is salt." He stated firmly.

Dean shoved the salt into the kid's hand and watched as Sam fumbled with it, nearly dropping it. He held back a smile.

"Salt is the most basic weapon against the supernatural, it hurts or is a least a nuisance to nearly every single monster out there. Ghosts, spectres, basically any human spirits with ties to this earth, can be completely stopped by salt."

Dean turned away to keep Sam from seeing the smile on his face. The kid was the funniest cross between an eager want to please and the usual 'this guy is crazy' that most had when the supernatural was mentioned seriously. Some of the anger dropped away because the earnest puppy dog look that left Sam's eyes wide and soaking in every word made Dean feel like he was more than just some 22 year old on his way to being an alcoholic and just a step away from being dead and forgotten.

He showed Sam how to lay a salt line down in the motel room and then told him that it would be his job from here on out. Dean remembered when he was eight and his dad had appropriated the very same job to him. Sam was just the same, eager to please and overly careful with the salt, casting glances back at Dean for approval. Dean however was reminded that his dad had left him, and Sam received nothing more than a somber stare.

Sam seemed to wilt a little and Dean begrudgingly gave a tiny nod of approval. The shy overjoyed smile made Dean regret being so frigid, but for just a moment.

When Sam was finished he went back over to Dean, offering the salt back to Dean. Dean took it and placed it back in the bag, he drew out a bottle of holy water and a cross, however he jolted to a stop when he looked at the kid. He really was exhausted looking yet he stood, determined to impress Dean. Dean himself felt tired.

"How 'bout we hit the hay?"

Sam smiled gratefully and went over to the mattress, not changing, and practically collapsed on it. He was out in a minute. Dean felt a smile growing on his face despite himself. The kid's mouth was hanging open and his scrawny arms and legs were splayed out. Dean felt a part of him soften that had been turned to stone when his mother and brother had died.

Dean tugged the kid's shoes off and pulled the covers over him. Quietly Dean began his research of Jericho and its missing persons.

* * *

They pulled into Jericho the next day, a tiny California town out in the county of Modesto. They were just coming in through the town when Dean pulled the car over upon coming up to a bridge that had a few police cars and some officials milling about. Dean tugged open the glove box, ignoring Sam's confused stare.

"Stay here, kid." Dean said, once he'd gotten a hold of the right I.D..

Opening the car door, he got out and approached one of the men.

"Hi, I'm with the state troopers. Can you tell me what happened here."

The man gave him a disbelieving look. "You're a little young to be a state trooper."

Dean smiled. "Thank you."

They began to walk farther down the bridge.

"He's not been the only one, are there any other connections between the people other than them being all male?"

The policeman shook his head while Dean peered around, eyes turning toward the river as two other policemen called up to the bridge. The swinging groan of a car door had him snapping his head to the Impala, where Sam was getting out. No, no, no, kid. Don't get out of the car. Dean watched as Sam looked at Dean. Dean did his best to send him a look that meant 'stay in the friggin' car, or else'. Sam seemed to misinterpret it and came trotting over.

"Kid, you can't be here."

Dean swooped in, a false smile on his face. "That's alright, this is my brother."

The policeman raised a suspicious brow. Dean grimaced.

"Just me and him, both parents are gone. School got out early and I had to have him tag along."

He smiled, ruffling Sam's hair. The policeman's suspicion seemed to fade just a little.

"We don't allow children at crime scenes."

"Of course, officer."

Dean gripped Sam's shoulder and guided him back to the car. Once they were both in and driving away, Dean turned on Sam.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"Impersonating an officer of the law is a felony." Sam replied, voice quiet and tone trembling with fear.

"I-I looked in your trunk. There's a lot of guns. If, if you're some kind of murderer-"

"No, kid, no I'm not a killer. God, didn't I explain this to you. I hunt the supernatural."

Sam shook his head and curled into the corner of the car as far away as Dean as possible.

"Okay, I believe you."

Dean let out a huff of frustration. Kid thought he was a psycho killer, probably was too afraid to disagree. This was going to make working the hunt ten times harder. He drove aimlessly, going through a drive thru and then stopping so they could both eat. Sam still seemed terrified of him.

Dean needed to figure out something. The only thing though he could think of was coming back to the bridge at night and hopefully catching a glimpse of whatever was doing this. He leaned toward vengeful ghost, especially after the EVP. Maybe the kid would believe him and this would become a lot easier.

* * *

Finally night fell and they were heading back toward the bridge, when Dean stopped the car and cut the engine. Sam was pale and shaking.

"I'm not going to kill you." Dean said in exasperation.

It didn't seem to calm Sam down at all. Dean opened the door and started across the bridge. When Sam didn't follow, Dean turned and motioned to him. The door swung open and Sam meekly came over to Dean.

"Men have been disappearing from here, all on this bridge. This usually indicates monsters."

Dean frowned, glancing about the bridge before setting his attention back on Sam.

"Something like this might be a ghost."

Sam bit his lip and he frowned. Dean held back another frustrated sigh.

"Ghosts are usually created through a violent or awful death. The experience ties them to this world-"

Dean was cut off as Sam lurched forward, eyes wide and hand reaching out. "No!" Sam screamed.

Dean turned in time to see a woman look at them from over her shoulder, feet placed on the railing of the bridge. A moment later and she stepped, plummeting from view. Both of them raced forward, slamming against the railing and peering over the side. There wasn't a body.

"Oh My God! That woman-" Sam turned to Dean, hazel eyes blown wide with confusion and panic. "She-she should be dead, down there."

Dean went to say something but he didn't get a chance as he heard his baby roar to life. Dean let out a soft curse under his breath as the headlights blinded them both. Both stayed stock still until the car shifted gears and began roaring toward them. Dean turned, beginning to sprint for his life when he saw Sam white and motionless, standing like a deer in headlights.

"Shit!" Dean yelled, turning and roughly grabbing the kid's arm. "Friggin' move!"

Sam snapped from his daze and managed to run with Dean, stumbling behind as best as he could with Dean gripping his arm tightly. The car accelerated and Dean looked at the long stretch of bridge that gave them no where to go. Dean made a split second decision, tugging them both to side where the railing was.

"Jump!" He yelled, he watched in horror as Sam froze again before trying to scramble over the railing at a speed that was going to end up leaving Sam as roadkill.

Without a second thought, Dean used his hold on Sam's arm to propel both of them over the side to go tumbling down toward the river. There was a heart stopping moment as every sense seemed to implode upon submerging in the water, then Dean was kicking toward the surface, grip having been lost on Sam. When his head came up he tried to spot Sam but with quick horror realized that the kid hadn't come up.

A thrashing limb that broke the surface of the water alerted him to where Sam was and from the movements Dean could tell that Sam didn't know how to swim. Trying to grab Sam while the gangly limbs were flailing was difficult, but Dean managed to snag an arm around Sam's waist and begin moving towards shore. Sam slowly stilled and Dean had a feeling that it wasn't because Sam had realized he was being saved.

Crawling up the river bank, Dean pulled Sam after him, placing the kid on his back. Sam was still, unnaturally still, as his chest stayed frozen in place. Dean let out another curse word.

"Shit." He rolled Sam to his side, pounding on the kid's back.

Sam however didn't stir. "You better not die on me kid."

Sam let out a strange jerk, body convulsing as he threw up water. Dean watched a few seconds to make sure the kid really was alive before sinking back on his knees. Both of them were covered in mud and it was now edging into early morning.

Sam's eyes flickered open and he let out a soft whimper. Dean leaned over and checked Sam's pulse, it was steady enough and Sam was breathing. Dean was exhausted, but they needed to get out of here and get some place warmer. Dean slapped Sam's cheek causing hazel eyes to spring open in alarm and fear.

"Get up." Dean said firmly, gripping Sam's arm and hauling him to his feet.

Sam stumbled, legs weak and struggling to stay under him. Dean waited for Sam to steady himself before heading up the bank, climbing the steep, crumbling side which was difficult to ascend. Dean turned back and saw Sam struggling to come up and quickly backtracked to help him up.

When they were in the car, Sam slumped in the seat, asleep in seconds. Dean drove them to the nearby hotel, the sun coming up. Damn, they'd been out late. They arrived at the hotel and Dean gently jostled Sam who didn't wake up. Dean got out and went to the front desk.

He had them checked in, the strange comment about Aframian family reunions making Dean head toward the room that he suspected his father had been in. Breaking into the room, Dean saw his father's work splayed across the wall, and old food. He forgot about everything else as the room was an entire testament that his dad was alive, taking away the painful doubt that his dad had died and left him.

Looking at the notes strung out on the wall he found all the research they'd already done and more. Constance Welch, the woman who had killed her children before committing suicide. This made things easy to wrap up, all they had to do was find her grave now and burn the bones.

First though, he was covered in mud. The kid was probably exhausted and would sleep the twenty minutes it would take him to shower and change. Then they could figure out the ghost girl, from the looks of it his dad already had an address. Dean jotted the address down and took the note with him back to the car where he grabbed his duffel. The kid was still sound asleep. Dean left the keys there in case the kid did wake up, along with a note and the address.

Heading back to the room he showered and got out, taking maybe fifteen minutes. Nothing left to do but head out, get something to eat and then put the girl to rest. It seemed like his dad was gone though. Dean grit his teeth as he walked out, frustration again bleeding through and a deep anger and hurt from the abandonment of his father. Then the startling taking on of a poor teenage kid who somehow would make it possible to take down the thing which had killed his mother.

He wasn't paying attention and the cops surprised him. He let out a soft curse as the officer from before approached.

"False ID, false name, false credit cards. Anything you got that's not false?"

Dean smirked. "My boobs."

* * *

Thank you for reading everyone! I hope you enjoy!


	3. Woman in White 3

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 1: The Woman in White

* * *

Chapter 3: A Very Nice Title

* * *

Sam woke up feeling disoriented and slightly feverish. He couldn't remember what had happened last, blinking sluggishly it came back to him. He sprung up, eyes wide again. The lady, jumping from the bridge but not, and then the car running them down when no one was in it. He frowned in confusion, Dean had said ghosts. Where was Dean, anyway?

It had grown dark, the entire day apparently having passed with him asleep. Sitting up from where he was, he tried to blink away the fog in his head. He managed well enough, upright and eyes adjusting. Dean wasn't there. Sam saw a note on the dash and grabbed it. There was an address. Next to the note were the keys to the car and what Sam assumed was a motel room. He frowned again, coughing wetly, his chest aching painfully.

Sam wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, Dean hadn't told him anything. He was still muddy and still slightly cold from the damp clothes he was in. Getting out of the car, he took the motel key and the car keys, locking the car. Hesitantly he headed for the motel room, head swinging back and forth. No one was there though.

The room ended up being empty. It didn't even look like Dean had gone inside. Sam frowned, he felt sick and he was terrified about what to do next. Dean wouldn't just leave him, would he? Sam didn't know Dean, really. But the ghost and the bridge? Sam shook his head in confusion. What he'd seen was real.

The only other thing he had was the address. Pulling out one of the many maps in the car he managed to locate Jericho and then the road. He squinted as he looked off to the side, figuring out where he was at. He'd driven a car, once. It hadn't been a pleasant experience. But Dean had said monsters were dangerous, what if Dean had been taken by that crazy ghost lady?

Dean may have claimed that he wasn't anybody to him, but Sam wanted to at least prove that he was worth something. That Sam was worth keeping. Gnawing on his lip as his stomach tumbled in agitation, Sam made up his fevered mind. He slid the key into the ignition, anxiety filling him as the car roared to life. He levered the bench seat as far forward as possible and then put the car into drive.

The drive was terrifying, honestly. Sam kept stopping to look at the map and his slow pace seemed to agonize the other drivers who either honked and flipped him off as they drove around or sped by as quickly as they could. The late hour though meant that Sam only had to deal with a few other cars. He was a mile from the address when a woman appeared suddenly in the road. Sam stomped on the brakes, giving himself whiplash.

Blinking his vision back into focus Sam looked around in confusion when he heard the shrill tones of a phone ringing. Fumbling awkwardly with the glove compartment, Sam managed to get it open and grabbed the phone. He flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"Sam? This is Dean. Where are you?"

Dean had been detained at the police station for a while, the officer glaring him down and accusing him of the many disappearances in the town. When he'd thrown down John's journal, Dean had stilled, body stiffening as he thought about the reasons why his father would leave behind one of the most precious items he owned. He left me behind though, Dean thought bitterly.

The man had opened the journal to the back and pointed at a page which had been previously empty. Dean's name was circled along with coordinates. The man continued to ply him about the journal and where he had dumped the bodies or what he had done with the missing men. At some point the man stepped out, cuffing him to the table, saying something to try to sound like a hard ass cop, stew in his own juices kind of statement. This gave Dean enough time to pick the lock and slip out the window.

It was close to the hotel and Dean jogged his way there to find Sam and the Impala gone. He'd cursed and then headed to the nearest pay phone available. Thank God, Sam had answered, breathing labored and voice tinged in slightly delirious confusion. Dean knew the sounds of sickness and felt guilt well in his stomach for neglecting Sam after the impromptu dunk in the river.

"Sam, where are you?"

"Uh, I don't know. I-the address?" Sam was stuttering.

"Well, stay where you are, I'm coming to-"

Dean stopped as he heard a sharp gasp and Sam crying out.

"Sam?"

Sam didn't respond and Dean could hear faintly the tones of one Constance Welch in the background. Sam wasn't old enough to be involved with anyone, but they had been poking at the ghost and in nearly every case involving spirits, Dean found that ghosts always poked back.

"Sam?!" Dean yelled, the line then went dead.

Dean slammed the phone back onto receiver and ran from the pay phone. The first car he laid eyes on he broke into, taking all of five minutes to have it hot wired. He was maybe a few minutes from the house, it being just a few miles outside of town. He sped toward the destination, hoping beyond hope that the kid that he had taken in would be alright.

* * *

Sam meanwhile had seen the figure of Constance Welch appear in the passenger seat, haunting eyes set on him. The car had been stopped, idling until Constance revved the engine and forced the car to go speeding down the road. Sam tried to press the brakes and steer but it was pointless.

"I can never go home." Constance whispered, voice grating on Sam's ears.

The car came to a jarring halt in front of an old, run down house. Then Constance was on top of Sam, one hand on his chest and the other on his head.

"I can never go home." She repeated.

Sam felt water fill his lungs and he choked, spewing out water. Constance had drowned her children, apparently Sam was similar enough. Sam tried to claw at the hands trapping him, breath gone. The hand on his chest pierced him making him scream past the water, sound coming out as a strange gargle. His vision was beginning to fade and everything was becoming dull and faraway.

Right before Sam slipped from consciousness there was the sharp retort of a gun and the choking water was gone and the pressure on his chest was released. Gasping for air, Sam blinked his vision back. But Constance was back, grief etched on her face and message the same.

Terror seized Sam, the idea of choking once again made him desperately slam on the gas, sending the black Chevy careening into the house. The impact hit and Sam fell into the blissful embrace of unconsciousness.

Dean was sure he wouldn't get there in time, especially when he threw the stolen car in park and saw Constance straddling a motionless Sam in the driver's seat of the Impala. It had taken a moment to plug the bitch with a salt round, the solution temporary but hopefully enough to save Sam's life.

Constance had reappeared and then the last thing Dean expected had happened, Sam had sent his baby crashing into a friggin' house. Anger swam through him but worry was more prominent. He raced inside to see Sam slumped against the steering wheel. He made it a few steps before Constance was sending a table sliding across the floor to trap him against the wall.

The table was held in place and despite Dean's efforts he couldn't make it budge. Constance began to approach him and Dean was pretty sure he was screwed. And then, there was the whispering of other spirits; her children.

Watching the end of a violent spirit's life was always strangely settling in a sad melancholic way. People who had brought their struggles from life to death were finally being given the ability to rest. Dean found it satisfying in a way that was different from saving a person, it was more than just preserving the breath of a person it was giving a person back their life and letting them have hard earned peace.

Pushing the desk away, Dean ran toward the car. Seeing the pale, lifeless form of Sam had him assuming the worst. He gently checked the kid over, relieved that he was alive and worried about the heat emanating from his head. There were several puncture wounds from where Constance had stabbed Sam with her nails, they were just flesh wounds though. The awful sound of his breathing had Dean thinking bronchitis at least, possibly pneumonia. Dean cursed, wrapping the kid in a blanket from the trunk and setting him out on the back seat. This was his fault, he had been so wrapped up in the hunt and in finding his dad that he had basically neglected the kid who he was the guardian of.

His dad expected him to train and teach the kid and he was going to get him killed within the first few days of having him around.

Staying in Jericho wasn't a viable option and staying in any of the local small towns would be risking whatever APB had been put out on him after his stint with the Jericho police. That meant he was headed for Modesto, getting a crap room once he was there.

When they arrived, Sam was still unconscious and his fever had risen. Dean lifted the kid up bridal style, gangly fourteen year old heavy and difficult to manage, and then brought him over to the room he had checked out. It wasn't great, but they never were. He carefully arranged him on the bed and headed back out to the trunk to gather the med kit and other things they would need. He still had some strong prescription drugs from his last run of drugs with false names and orders.

Dean stripped Sam down to his boxers and managed to coax medicine into the delirious boy, before he began working on bringing Sam's temperature down.

At some point Sam was talking, glazed eyes opening to stare pleadingly at Dean.

"Please," he said hoarsely, "M'sorry."

Dean replaced the cloth on Sam's forehead. A weak hand gripped his wrist and hazel eyes stared painfully at him.

"M'srry, don' le've."

Dean's jaw tightened and he gently placed the hand next to Sam's side.

"Please." Sam said, eyes watering.

"B' better." Sam promised, tears falling.

Dean found himself brushing Sam's bangs back from his forehead and words falling from his mouth which surprised himself because of their honesty.

"I won't leave you, Sam."

The hazel eyes stared intensely for a moment, measuring Dean's statement, and then Sam relaxed, trust and relief entering his gaze. It loosened something in Dean's chest, making a warm feeling grow. Sam's lids slipped shut and his breathing eased slightly as he fell asleep. Dean brushed another hand through Sam's hair.

"I won't leave you." Dean whispered.

* * *

Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, followed, or just read! Your support means the world to me! I will soon have the next episode done, which will be Wendigo, I don't think I will cover every episode (Unless you all demand it!) but will try to hit the ones most critical to the plot.


	4. Wendigo 1

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 2: Wendigo

* * *

Chapter 4: Saving People, Hunting Things; The Family Business

* * *

"So, umm, iron is good against ghosts. Silver is good against werewolves, skinwalkers, shifters. Holy water is…?"

Sam trailed off, looking nervously up at Dean. They were seated in a diner in some Nevada by way town. It'd been a week before Sam had been well enough to move to a different motel, farther away from Jericho, and another week of healing. He was still pale and his breathing wasn't back to normal yet.

"Demons mainly, but honestly you see maybe a few demon possessions every year, at the most. But holy water works pretty well against anything supernatural, use it a lot to clean out wounds."

Sam nodded, eyes wide with hero worship. Two weeks of recovery with Sam had allowed them to bond in a weird way. Sam had talked some, but mainly Dean had tended to Sam and then relaxed next to him watching reruns of tv shows. Dean had promised Sam a good education in entertainment, all facets. So far he was succeeding in the movie and tv area, Sam's introduction to Metallica and AC/DC so far hadn't been faring as well. The kid didn't complain, in fact he claimed he liked it, but the strange way his face quirked when the music came on let Dean know that the kid didn't like it.

"You're doing good Sammy."

Sam grinned at the praise. "It's Sam." He said, clear pleasure at the nickname shining through his affected tone of annoyance.

Dean flicked a salt packet at Sam and felt himself smile as both Sam's indignance and happy look grew.

"Whatever, bitch."

Sam's smile fell off his face and he seemed to shrink back. Dean felt guilt well up immediately and he tried to rescue the situation.

Dean nudged Sam's foot under the table and whipped his head to the side, eyes widening in false shock. "What is that?!"

Sam fell for it and his head was turning to the side to see what Dean was referring to. Dean took the opportunity to drag Sam's plate toward him and begin digging into the half-eaten fries. Sam looked back over and his face filled with realization and then anger.

"You-you stole my food, you jerk." Sam faltered right after he finished, alarm filling his eyes as though Dean would punish him for insulting him.

Dean just smiled toothily and stuffed another fry in his mouth, eyes conveying warmth despite his bullshit grin. Sam read the unsaid 'it's okay' and the smile came back to his face.

Sam was so afraid of abandonment that Dean could feel the fear radiating off him every time he did something which he thought Dean didn't like. It hurt Dean to think that the kids opinion of him was so low, but a part of Dean sensed that it had less to do with Dean and more to do with the kids previous situation. The most he could do was let the kid know he wasn't leaving, God knew Dean had his own issues with feeling abandoned. Having Sam around was a nice distraction from the anger and hurt Dean felt toward his father, something to keep him busy and occupied. That was probably the reason why John had left Dean the strange instructions.

Sam's supposed connection with the demon that had killed Dean's mother was something that nagged at Dean's mind. So far there hadn't been anything different or extraordinary about the kid, nothing demonic or angelic that would indicate that he was somehow a key to taking the demon down. John however did everything for a purpose, and despite all the issues Dean had with his dad, he let nothing stand in the way of his dad when it came to trusting him in hunting matters. John not remembering to get clothes that fit Dean when he was a kid, definitely; John screwing up on a hunt, nigh impossible.

One thing was for sure, Sam was growing on him and though in denial of even the thought, Sam was quickly working his way into becoming a real part of his family.

"So, how do you find out that you need to hunt things? Do people tell you?"

Dean grinned in anticipation of putting Sam through the same torture he had endured when he was a kid, reasearch.

"Most people don't have an inkling of an idea about the supernatural, let alone who to turn to for help. Pretty much every hunt we take on is found by us through research or by another hunter doing the same thing."

Sam frowned as he placed the burger he'd been about to take a bite from back on the plate. He'd snatched his plate back from Dean who had given it up since Sam was a few pounds from being a skeleton.

"Research?"

Dean's grin widened. He couldn't wait to introduce Sam to the horror and boredom that was research.

"Looking stuff up, usually we-hunters that is-follow news, police reports, the like, for crazy stories or unexplainable stuff. If any of it looks like the M.O. of a monster, we check it out. From there we head to the place to snoop around and figure it out. Once we know where and what the monster is, we kill it."

"Oh," Sam said, frown fading to be replaced by a look of comprehension, "like research for a school project, when you want to know about something particular."

Dean shrugged, he didn't remember much about school projects or school in general. "Sure, yeah."

"So, is that what we're going to do next?"

Dean swallowed his half chewed bite of burger. "Do what?"

"Research."

Dean shook his head. "No, I've already found where we're going next."

Sam nodded, going back to eating. He didn't ask, but Dean could tell the kid was curious.

"We're going to Lost Creek, Colorado."

Sam still looked curious but still kept his mouth shut. Dean had pondered the coordinates his dad had left, mind racing with what they could mean. After looking them up and finding out that they were a point in the middle of nowhere Colorado in a friggin' national forest, Dean had been disappointed. The hunter part of him had him looking up articles of Lost Creek and those had revealed that a number of people had gone missing along an area called Blackwater ridge, not many, at least not many recently. It added up to nearly thirty people over a 69 year period of time, eight people every twenty three years. Dean smelled a hunt, but he was still confused as to why his dad was sending him on hunts in such a confusing and covert way.

Letting out a soft sigh, Dean stood, shortly followed by Sam as they made their way out of the diner. Soon they were headed down the interstate, Colorado their destination.

Dean could never recall having travelled so slowly, his dad had always been raring to eat up the miles, many times driving an entire day and only pulling over to nap for a few hours. Dean however, didn't want to push Sam, not with the kid barely recovering from pneumonia. John, though he loved Dean, had been negligent in his interest in Dean's basic welfare.

Currently they were just south of Provo, parked on a dirt road off of 191. Dean was giving Sam his first lesson in firing a firearm, the last couple nights Dean had spent showing Sam the parts of the gun, how to load, clean, assemble and disassemble his Taurus. Sam had, surprisingly, picked it up pretty quick. The shooting however was not going well.

Sam was shaking just from having the safety off. After the second wild shot, Dean had intervened. A calm hand was placed on Sam's shoulder and Dean was then guiding Sam's hands, speaking calm and gentle. The next shot was less wild, more sure, but it still didn't hit the target and that was all Sam saw.

Seeing the way the failure (in Sam's eyes at least) was affecting Sam, Dean took the Taurus and went back over to the Impala to pull out a sawed off. It was probably the gun he should've started off with, with a wider spread and more practical with non-lethal rounds of salt for an inexperienced user. In fact it was the first sawed off he had made, with a cylinder choke it had a wide spread, meaning the user wouldn't need good aim. With only salt filled rounds from non-metal casings the recoil was next to nothing because of mass.

As Dean offered the gun to Sam, he hesitated, remembering the pride he'd felt about the weapon. He'd always imagined it would be a gift for his younger brother to teach him with. His heart constricted and he had to make himself take his next breath. Sam was looking up at him, eyes wide again with that awe and wonder which made Dean feel like he was better than what he was, and Sam reached out to tenuously take hold of the gun. Dean had no doubt that Sam had seen the micro expression that had flitted across his face, the kid had proved to be extremely observant, and Dean smiled reassuringly. Sam's grip tightened and Dean began explaining how to use the single shot baikal.


	5. Wendigo 2

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 2: Wendigo

* * *

Chapter 5: I'll Make Sure You're Alright Too

* * *

When Dean pulled into the ranger's cabin of the Uncompahgre National Forest, Sam was asleep, head lolling on the bench seat and looking completely at peace. Dean gently shoved him and Sam's eyes opened.

"Where 're we?" Sam slurred, blinking away the sleep.

"We're here."

Sam frowned, sitting up from where he was curled against the car door. "Where is here?"

Sam apparently had a sassy side that was slowly coming out as he grew accustomed to Dean.

"Our next hunt."

Sam perked up at that, eyes focusing on the forest around them and the small ranger's cabin they were parked in front of.

Honestly, Dean wasn't sure if this was a hunt, it might very well not be. In fact, Dean wasn't sure what he was doing. Looking for his dad? To do what? Yell at him for leaving? Dump a kid with his dad when he very well knew how shitty of a dad John was? Wrenching the car door open, Dean stalked away from the car barely registering the worried look on Sam's face as the kid scurried to keep up.

The cabin was small, the front entrance letting out a small ding as a bell was rung up in the corner of the door. There was a rack of pamphlets and a small table with a textured map of the forest in the center of the room. Dean glanced around the room while Sam stepped over to the map.

"You two aren't looking to camp here, are you?"

Dean looked up at the ranger who had entered the room.

"No." Dean replied. "We're here-"

The ranger cut him off, "For that Hailey girl, you two must be friends with her family."

Sam blinked owlishly. Dean smiled and gave a nod.

"Yeah, Hailey, she sent us up here, Ranger…" Dean stepped closer and peered at the man's name tag, "Wilkinson."

"Her brother isn't due back till the 24th, they're not missing. Tell her to quit worrying."

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, well, she's quite a pistol. You know, it might help if I could show her that back country permit, ease her fears seeing his return date."

The ranger gave a knowing nod and headed back to get it. When he was gone, Sam looked at him in confusion.

"I thought we were hunting?"

Dean gave him a smile, "We are."

Dean wasn't entirely sure why he was pursuing this as if it was a hunt, usually he was all for taking the most direct route, just head to the friggin' coordinates and see what his dad was being a pain in the ass for. But one of the most important things he'd learned in hunting was to follow your gut instincts, and some part of Dean was telling him that there was something happening in Blackwater ridge.

* * *

They had gone to the house of the girl Hailey using the address on the back country permit, signed in the name of Thomas Collins, brother of Hailey.

"Sam, stay here."

"But-"

"Just stay here, alright?"

Sam lowered his gaze, not arguing but obviously hurt by being left behind. Dean felt bad and reached out a hand, ruffling Sam's hair. The teen ducked away from the offending hand, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"You're kind of a little young looking to be a park ranger."

Sam's face lit with understanding and he seemed less upset as Dean walked toward the door.

He knocked and a pretty looking girl with sharp blue eyes opened the door. Dean didn't balk under her gaze but he was surprised by the serious expression on her face. He smiled.

"Hi, I'm a park ranger, I'm here about your brother."

"What happened to Tommy?"

Dean's smile slipped at her urgent tone. "Nothing, just trying to clear up some things up, you mind if I come in?"

Hailey considered him for a moment, glancing back out at the car.

"Who's in the car?"

Dean turned to look back at where Sam was.

"He's my brother, just me and him since our parents passed. I take him with me sometimes."

Upon hearing this Hailey's expression softened and she proceeded to invite both of them in. Apparently Hailey and her two brothers were on their own too. Tommy hadn't sent them his usual daily call and they were worried. As the story progressed, Dean's worry grew as did his certainty that this was a case.

"That's why Ben and I are going to go up there tomorrow, we're going to find Tommy and bring him home."

Dean had been pondering on speaking with the ranger on preventing people on going up on Blackwater ridge, maybe head up there himself in a few days once he'd gotten a better idea what he would be facing.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Hailey raised a brow.

"Look, when was his last video call, maybe I can go up and check out the area to see how he's doing. You shouldn't bring your brother up there."

Hailey didn't reply for a moment. "I'll show you the call."

Hailey graciously gave them a copy, one which Dean had brought with them back to the motel room he had checked out.

* * *

Dean was currently seated at the motel desk in the room, looking through the video on the computer.

"Dean, I don't understand, what are we hunting?"

Dean turned from where he was watching the video, he had just gone through it for the third time, something told him that there was some kind of clue in it. Sam was seated on the bed, watching tv. The kid had been quiet ever since they'd made it into Lost Creek. Dean was pretty sure it was his fault, everything concerning his father made him angry and Sam was finely attuned to other people's emotions, again another trait Dean assumed was from the orphanage where knowing when someone is mad can save you from being beat. And yes, Dean had noticed Sam's initial flinches and other certain tells that pointed to both verbal and physical abuse.

"Well, that's part of the process really."

When Sam's head tilted to the side, eyes still filled with confusion and curiosity, Dean let some of the tense emotions that had been storming in him since getting nearby to where his dad might or might not be settle.

"C'mere."

Sam hopped up from the bed, flicking the tv off.

"Like I said, research is a big part of hunting. The two main things you need to be able to do for a hunt to be successful is first, figure out what you're hunting, second, figure out how to kill it."

Turning toward the computer in front of him, Dean sensed Sam come up behind him and look over his shoulder.

"Right now I'm just trying to figure out if this is something we would even hunt."

"Oh." Sam said.

Dean restarted the video for Sam's benefit and stared with bleary eyes at the screen. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, maybe logging a couple hours every night. It was telling.

"What was that?"

Dean startled at Sam's sudden outburst. He stopped the video.

"Go back a few seconds, by frame."

Dean did and then he saw what Sam had. It passed in three frames and was only a mere shadow. Dean frowned, because that was friggin' fast, unnaturally fast. Sam looked at Dean as though he expected Dean to have all the answers.

"Was that a monster?"

Dean looked at Sam and then at the screen, clicking the mouse to go back through the three frames.

"I don't know." He said honestly.

Turning he looked at the time, it was just past seven.

"What do we do now?"

Dean was running through the whole case in his head, evidence was building in the monster factor, however they just didn't have enough information.

"Research."

Dean closed the video and pulled up a browser window on the computer. Strangely enough the motel had wi-fi. Dean got up from the chair and indicated for Sam to sit down. Now he got to introduce Sam to the horror that was research.

Sam sat down and frowned as he looked up at Dean for further instructions. Dean couldn't help the evil grin that grew on his face. It was time for introducing Sam to the monstrosity called research.

"Well, I'm going to leave you to research while I go and pick us up something."

"Wait, how?"

Dean was already at the door, pulling his jacket on.

"Oh, you'll figure it out. Besides I already told you everything you need to know."

Dean pulled the door open about to head out. He hesitated though, worry churning in his gut at leaving Sam alone in the motel. It was ridiculous, his dad had left him in the motel room all the time from the time he was eight, Sam was fourteen.

Sam was already hunched over the computer, fingers flying.

"Sam?" Dean called out.

Sam turned a smile on his face and that look again, the look that made Dean feel like he was important, like he hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.

"You keep a coat on okay, and socks, and don't forget to take your meds."

Sam was beaming. Dean wasn't sure he should leave, anything could happen.

"And, don't answer the door. And don't-"

"I'll be alright." Sam said.

Dean had the keys in his hand and his jacket on. He nodded, still hesitating in the doorway.

"Well, you better bitch or I'm going to have to kick your ass."

Sam smiled. "I will, jerk." He said softly.

Dean shut the door and headed to the local bar. The local bar ended up turning up a name, a Mr. Shaw, the only survivor of the 'bear' attacks. Dean walked out at ten with an address and about eighty bucks from the few who were willing to play pool.

Dean stopped by a fast food place and picked up some food. When he got back to the motel he found Sam slumped over the desk, fast asleep.

Throwing the food on one of the beds, Dean stripped his jacket off and then headed over to Sam. The kid must have been tired because he didn't stir when Dean shook his shoulder. Glancing at the computer Dean saw an article on the survivor, Shaw.

Dean couldn't help the pleased smile that came onto his face, it seemed Sam had been more than successful on his research.

Gently picking Sam up, Dean watched as Sam made a funny snorting sound and leaned into Dean. He arranged Sam on the bed, tucking him in before he went over to Sam's duffel which he'd picked up and looking through to make sure Sam had taken his meds. Dean was turning into a mother hen.

Dean sighed and dug into the hamburger he'd gotten for himself. He was seated on his bed, absentmindedly watching Sam sleep. It had nearly been a month since he'd picked Sam up from the orphanage. For probably the millionth time, Dean wondered why, why his dad had done this. Having Sam around was nice, was this John's way of segueing onto Dean a partner in hunting? He'd always feared that his dad saw death as the only option in defeating the demon. Was this John replacing himself? Did John even care enough to make sure Dean wouldn't be alone?

Sam let out a soft snuffle and rolled over in his sleep so his mouth was hanging open, drool beginning its slow escape out of Sam's mouth and onto the pillow and freedom. Dean couldn't help the chuckle that escaped, Sam looked like a kid. Sam was a kid, Dean was struck by that sudden realization. Dean had been thinking of himself and his dad the whole time when here was a kid who was under his protection, who was essentially his, he should be thinking about what was best for Sam. And shit, when did Dean start thinking of this kid as his, since when did he care so much about this kid?

Dean got up from the bed and threw the burger wrapper away. Looking down at Sam he couldn't help the seed of fond affection that sprouted and was continuing to grow the more he got to know Sam. Leaning forward he tucked the blanket back around Sam and went to his own bed. He needed sleep, and then tomorrow they would talk to Mr. Shaw.

* * *

In the morning they woke up early and headed over to Mr. Shaws place, an old cabin just a little ways from human habitation. The old man was home, old watery eyes surveying them with suspicion before he wearily stepped away and into the poorly lit home. The story was short and horrifying, but it solidified the case and gave Dean some very important information. They walked out and Dean knew they needed to head up to Blackwater Ridge that day.

When they came to the trail head though, there Hailey was defiant blue eyes sharply taking in the Impala. Dean was out of the Impala in a flash, headed up to her.

"What are you doing?"

Hailey glared at him. "Getting my brother."

"You can't do that."

A man stepped out from a car, geared up with a gun and everything.

"I think they can, Mr.-"

"Park Ranger to you, sir." Dean turned back to Hailey. "Don't go up there, especially not with your brother."

"We're going whether you want us to or not."

Dean floundered, he had planned on heading up by himself, possibly not today. Sam still wasn't feeling completely better and he was thinking that what they were dealing with, now defined as corporeal, could be something quite dangerous like a skin walker or black dog. But he couldn't let these people head into possible danger.

"Fine, I'll go with you."

They argued but soon enough Sam and Dean were plodding down the path along with the others, Dean hefting both of their bags. The time passed uneventfully, the pace decent but not fast, the guide Roy being macho and facing off with Dean. Then they made it to the campsite.

Hailey screamed. The tents were shredded, an ample amount of blood congealing in the places it was spread about the campground. Sam paled and Dean felt a hand reach out to clutch at his jacket sleeve.

"Dean." It was quiet and fear filled.

Dean stepped quickly to the side, Hailey screaming out her brother's name while the guide inspected the remains of the tents.

His whole attention was on Sam, whose breathing-which had been labored on the hike-was starting to quicken.

Terrified eyes looked up to meet his and Dean steeled himself, making sure that his own fear and doubts didn't show through.

"Dean?" It was a little more panicked.

"Hey, it's fine. You're fine. Okay, as long as I'm around, nothing is going to hurt you."

Sam seemed to calm down some, both hands gripped onto Dean's jacket as Dean helped hold him up. Dean quickly ruffled Sam's hair and smiled reassuringly.

There was a scream and shout, a man's voice reverberating through the forest. Everyone ran towards it. Nothing was there though. When they returned to the campsite all of their stuff had been stolen. And then it clicked for Dean, he knew exactly what this was and suddenly skinwalkers and black dogs seemed like puppies and kittens. Wendigoes were incredibly dangerous opponents, this many people and only one hunter-the odds were not good.

"Everybody!" Dean yelled, knowing he needed to gain control of the situation fast.

"We need to stay here, okay. We leave now we'll be traveling by night and I can guarantee you that none of us will live."

"Really? A bear is going to do that?"

"It's not a bear." Dean said calmly, the last thing he needed to be dealing with right now was a guy who though he knew it all.

"Really?"

"You ever seen a bear steal packs like that? Mimic a human voice?"

The tension was nearly palpable and Dean could feel Sam standing right beside him.

"We're going to make a circle around the camp and everyone is going to stay in that circle. We stay and we're safe."

Dean turned to Sam and handed him the salt from the bag which he had kept on him.

"You know what to do." He said softly.

Sam nodded his head and began making the circle.

"You're magic circle is going to keep us safe?" Roy scoffed at Dean.

"Yes." Dean replied tersely.

"I'm not going to wait for this thing to track me down. I'm taking Hailey and her brother back."

Dean tried to argue and get them to stay but it didn't work. Dean made Sam stay and went chasing after them. Roy died, body strung up in a tree and Hailey for once was listening to Dean. They headed back to camp, plan to stay the night and head back in the daylight when it would be safer.

Dean hunched down against the tree, Sam curling up next to him under one of the sleeping bags not splattered with blood and torn open. Dean told himself he allowed Sam cuddling up to him since it was cold and he didn't want to deal with a sick Sam again.

"Dean?" Sam whispered.

Dean's arm was slung around Sam and Sam was pressed into his side. Dean let out a soft grunt of response.

"How do you know about Wendigoes?"

Dean had given them all the talk, describing the transformation of a man into a monster. The Cree Indian word describing the hundred year old cannibals who set aside their humanity to survive.

"It's kind of part of being a hunter." Dean replied, head leaned back against the tree and trying to get some sleep.

"Have you even killed one before?" There was a quality to Sam's tone that Dean couldn't quite place, it made him frown because it was a kind of distress, one he hadn't recognized yet.

"Well, yeah. Part of being a hunter, like I said."

"Oh." Sam replied. There was a beat of silence. "You're dad made sure you were alright?"

Dean stiffened, painful feelings sweeping through him at the thought of his father and then a second later he realized the tone of Sam, it was worry and fear. Sam was scared for Dean.

"Yeah," Dean said quietly, squeezing Sam gently and running a hand through his hair.

"Just like I'll make sure you're alright." Dean continued.

"I'll make sure you're alright too, Dean."

Sam didn't say anything else but Dean could feel the kid press closer, minutes later dropping off to sleep with breaths deepening and body going completely lax. Dean followed, allowing sleep to claim him.


	6. Wendigo 3

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 2: Wendigo

* * *

Chapter 6: Just As Much

* * *

There was a piercing scream, the sound of a man. Dean was awake immediately and alert seconds later. Sam roused slower. Hailey and Ben however were awake.

"Tommy!"

Dean watched as a moment passed and then another scream tore through the air. Hailey sprinted away, still screaming her brother's name. Dean dashed after, because he knew that the wendigo was hunting again, and this time it wasn't to take out a threat like Roy but to gather fresh prey.

Sam watched as Hailey first ran and then Dean left him. He was still groggy with sleep but fear ran through him as he watched Dean disappear through the foliage of the forest. Jumping up, he ran after, the kid Ben following with him. They ran through the forest, hearts pounding wildly. All Sam could think about was the blood at the campsite and Roy and the monster wendigo and the fact that Dean was in danger.

Sam stopped when he came to the cracked screen of Dean's phone on the forest floor. Panic filled him, pure fear and worry coursing through him and making him want to cry. Dean was dead, Dean was dead, oh God, Dean was dead. Tears threatened to fall but a voice inside him sounded out, his inner Dean telling him to calm down, to think about what he'd taught him about monsters, about the wendigo.

Clutching the phone Sam tried to think, mind furiously working. The boy Ben was watching him with equal amounts of fear. Ben was really his age, maybe older. Sam couldn't remember but he was sure the kid was sixteen, two years his senior. But Sam was a hunter, he had to be strong and calm and keep his head like Dean did. What had Dean said the night before about wendigoes?

Cannibals, used to be men, hibernated for years, had lairs. Lairs, that was important, somewhere close by, dark and good for storing their food. Sam ran back to the camp, Dean's back pack still sitting against the tree where he'd left it. There was a map inside which Sam pulled out and placed on the ground. Eyes searching frantically he tried to find what he was looking for.

A mine, that's where the wendigo would be, Sam was sure of it.

Sam headed toward the mine, not sure what he was supposed to do to fight a trained killing machine that was faster, stronger and smarter. The only thing he was sure of was that he was keeping his promise to Dean, he was going to make sure Dean was alright.

"Wait, where-where are we going?"

Sam turned to Ben, nearly forgetting that the kid was with him.

"I'm going to save my brother."

"And my sister?"

Sam gave a tiny nod.

"Then I'm coming with you."

They set out for the mine, minutes passing painfully. Stopping in front of the mine entrance, Sam hesitated. It was dark and the monster in there was something he knew he couldn't stop. Everything indicated that he should leave, run to safety. Besides, hadn't Dean told him that if something dangerous happened he should call the contact on his phone and not try to help him? Sam shook his head and walked into the mine.

It was dark and as they continued further a foul smell became noticeable and then grew until it was a putrid stench hanging in the air. It wasn't until they had came upon human bones that Sam realized it was the smell of rotting flesh. They walked a few steps when a creaking groan sounded out followed by the very floor falling out from under them.

Sam groaned as he sat up, blinking dirt from his eyes. When his vision cleared he saw two figures strung up with rope. Fear lanced through him and he was scrambling to his feet. Horror overcame him as he realized that it was Dean and Hailey.

"Dean?" Sam cried, tears forming and falling.

"Dean?!" Sam was patting at Dean, begging silently that Dean was okay. He barely noticed Ben approaching Hailey from where she was strung up.

When Dean stirred, Sam let out a sob and hugged Dean from where he was still hanging from the ceiling.

"Kid?" Dean's voice was hoarse.

"Wht're you?" Dean slurred, eyes blinking open. Sam was trembling but he pulled back, rubbing his sleeve across his face to brush away the tears and snot.

Sam pulled out the small butterfly knife that Dean had given him. Standing on tiptoe he awkwardly sawed away at the rope until is snapped and Dean came down, Sam trying to catch him but getting squashed in the effort.

"Are you okay?" Sam said, terrified eyes staring into Dean's.

Honestly Dean felt like crap, the Wendigo having hit him hard and then putting him back out when he'd started to wake up halfway through the journey. He blinked when he realized that Sam was crying, blinked again when he realized that Sam was here.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

Sam rocked back on his heels and guilt tinged his face.

"I know you told me to-I just-" Sam faltered, looking up in fear at Dean, tears starting fresh again.

"I didn't want you to die." He mumbled quietly before hanging his head.

Dean felt his heart swell a little, any anger he had been feeling leaving. He'd only been angry anyway because Sam could get hurt. Glancing over at where Hailey and Ben were taking down their still living brother he realized that Sam could still get hurt.

Pushing himself into a sitting position with a grunt, Dean awkwardly patted Sam on the shoulder.

"I'm not dead." He tried to reassure.

It didn't seem to work because Sam was still huddled in on himself. Dean felt guilty, however they still had a flesh eating monster on the loose. Looking at their surroundings he was surprised to see their packs off to the side. Flare guns.

Dean set a hand on Sam's shoulder again. "Sam, we gotta go."

Sam looked up and saw the flare gun in Dean's hand, the other being offered out to him. Grabbing it, Sam smiled hesitantly. Dean would fix this.

Standing up, Dean called to the others and had them gather round and start heading for the exit when a growl made them all stop.

"Someone's home for dinner." Dean muttered darkly.

He looked at the scared group of innocent and inexperienced people behind him. This was Sam's second hunt and they had nearly died on multiple occasions. Somehow Sam was looking up at him with dewy eyed hero worship and all the trust in the world.

"We're not going to make it past that thing." Hailey said from where she was helping to support her brother Tommy.

Dean couldn't agree more. Time for plan B. Turning to Sam he gently grabbed his shoulders.

"I need you to take them out of here, got that Sam?"

Sam nodded furiously but his eyes were already filling with confusion.

"What about you?"

Dean smiled. "Don't you worry about me. You get these people out and you keep them safe."

Dean grabbed Sam's hand, the one with the flare gun in it. He pressed it to Sam's chest and gave him an encouraging smile.

"You got this, Sammy."

Sam grinned, smile hesitant and still afraid but hopes bolstered. Standing, Dean turned around, not meeting the gazes of the people counting on him.

"Come and get me you freak!" He screamed, beginning to head off down the tunnel.

"Yeah, that's right! Bring it on, baby! I taste good! Get some white meat, bitch!"

Sam watched him go before heading off in the other direction with the others following. He could hear Dean's yells in the background. It was dark and there was little light to see by, Sam couldn't help his hands shaking as he held the flare gun like how Dean had taught him. They came to an intersection and Sam could hear the tell tale shift of rocks that wasn't his brother.

"Go! Go!" He said, terror overtaking as he raised the flare gun.

They scrambled away down the tunnel and Sam followed behind, glancing back to see if the monster was there. It appeared, out of nowhere, and Sam started, firing the gun. The shot missed and he was sprinting away as the wendigo let out a petrifying scream.

They turned a corner and came to face a dead end. Sam paled as the creature approached. They were all going to die.

"Get behind me." He said, trying to spread his arms out wide enough to protect the people with him.

Dean had made him promise, he was going to keep these people safe. And then Dean appeared, dark figure raising the flare gun and sending the monster to it's death. Once it had melted to the floor Dean came forward, eyes evaluating Sam for injuries. Sam launched himself at Dean, tears coming once again, harder and faster now that the danger was gone.

"I tho-thought, you were dead." Sam hiccuped.

Dean patted his back and Sam tightened his hold.

"Not yet, kiddo."

The ambulance and police were dizzying in the after, Sam stayed glued to Dean's side, a hand fisted in the side of Dean's jacket as if he would up and disappear. Finally Dean managed to get Sam into the Impala where he passed out in the passenger seat.

"You two were really brave."

Dean smiled, giving a small nod. Hailey looked at him, gratitude strong in her features but also interest and consideration.

"Really young too." She continued.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he's just a kid."

Hailey frowned. "I meant you too."

Dean froze at that. He hadn't felt young since he was eight. Responsibility and age were handed to him from the time he was old enough to carry it. Quite literally too, he'd been passing as being 21 since he had turned fifteen and could pull it off. Sometimes he forgot that he was barely old enough to be drinking.

He was surprised when Hailey leaned in and gave him a hug alongside a chaste but genuine kiss on the cheek. She gave him a long look.

"You take care of him, and you take care of yourself too."

Dean watched her walk away, stepping up and into the ambulance to be with her brother. Dean turned and looked at Sam who was now fast asleep inside the Impala, all scrunched up against the passenger door. An image of Sam's face when he'd found him strung up flitted through his mind. He smiled, for once there was someone waiting for him who really cared, someone that needed him, and apparently someone that he needed just as much.

* * *

Thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting! It's like getting a rainbow in my coffee in the morning (a very useful thing). Anyone who knows this episode will notice that I have some plot discrepancies, not only in location but also in events (no m&m trail, etc.) part is to not compromise the premise of my AU and the other is for personal reasons. If there are any questions feel free to PM me.

I will try to make it so there is an *episode* each week, so to keep in the spirit of the show.


	7. Dead in the Water

**Endless Road to Rediscover**

Part 3: Dead in the Water

* * *

Chapter 7: Purpose

* * *

Thinking back to the town of Lake Manitoc Dean made his mind up, they weren't going near water until Sam could swim. For now though they had just pulled into one of the more ritzier-ritzy for Dean at least- motels, one which had a pool (not ritzy enough to rank a hotel). Sam had fared far better in the research area than Dean had anticipated, Sam had actually enjoyed the work. Dean was too mature (at least Dean would like to think so) to feel thwarted in his fraternal antics, however if one were to describe him as slightly put out that Sam basically loved something he had hoped would be a suitable punishment and shared burden, than they wouldn't be too far from the truth.

Sam was coming along great as a hunter to be, having scrounged up the last nightmare of a hunt that they'd taken on through his research skills. They'd saved a mother and child from the ghost of a child who had been killed through bullying. The whole subject had seemed to hit close to home for Sam, experiences dredged up that were best forgotten. Dean didn't know what exactly but he hoped Sam would open up to him about it. On top of that the sonuvabitch had nearly drowned Sam, hence Dean's suddenly sprouted hatred for any container that held enough water to drown in.

"Why're we here?" Sam asked as they unloaded the Impala.

Sam was sending Dean a curious look, eyes pointedly watching Dean pull out extra luggage that he usually left in the car.

"We're gonna stick around here for a while, start the next and probably the most important part of your training."

Sam blinked, curiosity obviously not sated. Once Sam had gotten comfortable enough with Dean, questions poured from his mouth, he still hesitated once in a while, gauging Dean for a negative or positive response. The questions were usually okay but once in awhile they bugged the crap out of Dean, he was trying his best though since he wanted Sam to feel comfortable asking.

"You've probably figured out by now but being a hunter is physically demanding. Being physically capable can mean the difference between life and death."

Sam gave a small nod, he seemed notably less enthusiastic about this part of hunting.

"Like when you saved Andrea." Sam pointed out.

Dean stuttered to a stop, he wasn't quite used to Sam referring to the people they interacted with by name. Usually it was 'that girl' or 'the one guy', names were more personal. He also recalled the terrifying moment when he'd fought to drag the woman from the bath tub, knowing that her son was just in the doorway depending on him to save his mother.

"Yeah, her." Dean replied, voice slightly subdued.

"So I'm going to train?" Sam spoke as if the idea was foreign and strange.

Dean smiled and nodded. "But first, you're going to learn to swim."

An hour later they were both in the pool. Sam was catching on quick and what had first started out with fear and hesitancy had turned into enthusiastic enjoyment, Dean was afraid he wouldn't be able to get Sam out.

Sam had just taken his first cannon ball and was swimming decently, if still slightly awkward, toward Dean who was on the shallow side. He was grinning like there was no tomorrow, sun shining down despite the month. They were in a small interstate town just a few miles north of El Paso and it was unusually warm. It was honestly relaxing, Dean couldn't recall the last time he had swam for recreation instead of having to save someone's life.

"Am I doing alright?" Sam asked, swimming in circles around Dean.

Dean chuckled slightly and gave a nod. Sam kicked around a little bit more before he stilled and then turned so he was floating on his back. Dean couldn't help but smile at Sam's ability to relish in his new found ability.

"How come you never learned how to swim at the orphanage?"

Sam didn't flip up from where he was still floating but he closed his eyes and let out a breath slowly.

"We didn't really do stuff like that with Ms. Lloyd, and the school I went to didn't have one."

Dean blinked. School. It took him a moment to process that before the implications came through. Shit. Sam was supposed to be in school and they were in the beginning of December. School started in September, right? He remembered vaguely that part of the papers he'd gotten on Sam were school records.

"I mean, the community center had one but," Sam paused, voice quiet.

Dean snapped away from thinking about school to Sam because he could tell Sam was probably going to say something important.

"I didn't really have friends, I sucked at making them and Ms. Lloyd made sure that anyone who wanted to be friends with me weren't able to."

"She was a real bitch, wasn't she?"

Sam chuckled at Dean's tone and a few moments passed before he suddenly turned upright. Sam's mouth twisted in an impish grin, the previous sadness vanishing.

"Takes one to know one, jerk." Sam punctuated his teasing with a sudden splash which launched chlorine water up Dean's nose and sent him into spluttering coughs.

"You'll pay for that, bitch!" Dean surged forward and they began a war of splashing which left no survivors.

They didn't come out of the pool till later when both were tasting chlorine and felt sunbaked by the chemicals in the water. Sam was all pruney and he still felt tired from the run Dean had gone on with him this morning but at the same time he felt more amazing than he ever had.

It was hard to think that a little over a month ago Sam had been alone in an orphanage going to a school where he was bullied daily. Now he was travelling on the road in a cool car, eating junk food and hanging out with the coolest person he was sure existed. On top of that, he got to save lives alongside Dean. Despite it though, worry nagged at him, fear that Dean would suddenly leave, suddenly realize that Sam was an anchor which dragged him down. No one had ever been so patient with him before, no one had ever looked worried like Dean did about him. Sam didn't want to lose that.

They both dressed and headed to a local diner to eat before coming back to the motel. Sam sunk onto the bed, stomach full and his body perfectly exhausted. He couldn't recall being so content.

"I pay up for a decent room and you're going to sleep in the sheets all chloriney and gross?"

Sam let out a grunt and rolled over on the bed, he was too tired to do anything.

"Take a shower."

Sam lifted his head and glared at Dean, eyes drooping. He just wanted to sleep. Dean raised a brow in response. Sam huffed and got out of bed, heading toward the bathroom with a change of clothing.

"Don't take all the hot water."

Sam didn't reply but he was out in ten minutes and asleep on the bed within seconds.

Dean managed a small scoff before going to take a shower.

* * *

The sound of distressed whimpers and disturbed groans pulled Dean from a peaceful sleep, blinking blearily he raised his head. Sam was on the opposite bed, writhing in the sheets, face scrunched up in distress.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was scratchy from sleep.

Sam didn't respond, whatever nightmare he was trapped in having too tight a hold. Or possibly he was sick and fevered again. Getting up from bed, Dean padded over to the other bed and placed a hand on Sam's forehead. Sam seemed to still some but there wasn't any heat.

Dean frowned, wondering about what he should do. His father had always been an ignore it till it goes away type of guy, Dean was naturally in the same strain as his father however; Sam looked so upset, face scrunched in fear. And then Sam let out a small pained cry. Dean let out a soft, exasperated sigh.

"I'm going friggin' soft." He mumbled to himself.

Leaning over, Dean gently shook Sam's shoulder. Sam didn't respond and Dean grimaced as he sat on the bed to better shake Sam. Sam let out a harsh scream, hands scrambling at where Dean had a hold of him.

"NOOO!"

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam as the boy tried to catapult himself from the bed.

"Sam, it's me, Dean."

Sam was still struggling, tears pouring down his face.

"Please, don't, stop!"

"Sam!" Dean said a little louder, firmly grasping Sam's head with one hand and tilting it so he was looking at him.

"It's me, you're safe, you're fine."

Sam's eyes focused and became aware, locking onto Dean's.

"Dean?" Sam whispered.

Dean nodded. "One and only." He joked softly.

Sam's face crumpled and he buried his head against Dean, sobs taking hold. Dean couldn't really understand what Sam was sobbing out, only catching a few words, things like 'sorry' and 'scared'. Dean froze at first, body stiff as Sam garnered comfort from just his presence, he unfroze slowly, not thinking about what he was really doing and then looped his arms around Sam.

He didn't really think about it, one hand rubbing Sam's back comfortingly while he whispered short, meaningless, but comforting words. It took several minutes but Sam calmed down enough to lean back and away from Dean. His eyes were cast down in shame and Dean could already see him starting to curl away.

Again Dean wasn't sure what he should do, he hesitated and Sam was sliding off the bed, scurrying away to the bathroom. Dean frowned. His dad had never comforted him like that, tears were a private weakness, you didn't comfort and you most definitely didn't acknowledge it. Dean's mind tumbled in dissonance of what he'd been taught and what he felt inside. He wanted to comfort Sam, dry tears and fears, be the comforting bulwark in a way that his father had never been able to be for him.

Dean gulped, his own eyes watering painfully. He cursed and scrubbed his face with his hand, breathing in deep to gain control of his emotions. His breathing and throat loose again he stood up, intent on going back to bed when the sound of crying coming from the bathroom made him stop.

Dean opened the bathroom door, apparently Sam had forgotten to lock the door. Sam was seated in the corner of the bathroom, bawling into his hands with his knees drawn up to his chest.

This wasn't Dean's forte, hell it wasn't even something he was remotely experienced with. Comfort, cuddling and sickening emotional chick flicks. Dean let out a reinforcing huff and sank to the floor next to Sam. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him against his side.

Sam resisted for a moment and then melted against Dean.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Sam's sobs had died to hiccups. Dean was horrified when Sam shook his head yes. Dean was terrified he was going to screw this whole emotional thing up.

"You-yo-" Sam hiccuped.

"Died, I couldn't save you." Sam managed to get out.

Dean frowned.

"You left, they were there and they kept hitting and hitting." Sam's voice fluctuated, voice growing in agitation before it cut off with the beginning of another sob.

Dean had a feeling that 'they' were the bullies Sam had barely mentioned before.

"You're not- you won't leave? No one's wanted me before, no one's kept me."

Dean was stunned, despite John's awful and borderline abusive (due to negligence) parenting, which wasn't exactly enviable, his dad had always been present, at least physically that is, and Dean had known he wouldn't be abandoned. He grimaced, until now that was, he thought, mind going back to the empty motel room. Dean managed to respond. "Promised I wouldn't leave, I don't make promises I can't keep."

Sam nodded and Dean coaxed him back to bed, making sure the covers were tucked around Sam before the kid fell asleep.

He himself sank back into his own bed, absentmindedly glancing at the clock. It was 3:49 AM. The experience allowed his mind to wander in places it hadn't been in a long time, wondering about the own possibilities of his childhood, the long forgotten desire to be comforted as a child with gentle hands and kind words. Him and Sam weren't that different, Dean though had the chance to rectify the lack in Sam's life, and the chance to confront his own inner demons. Sam was giving him a strength of purpose he had never had, one which his dad had forgotten and one which he wanted to fulfill.

* * *

Next Episode: Phantom Traveller


End file.
